


Assassination

by Lan_Cheer



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Assassin!Merlin, Dark!Merlin, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lan_Cheer/pseuds/Lan_Cheer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Old Religion never fell after the Purge. They took Emrys under their power and trained him to be the most powerful and craftiest assasin. Now the latest try of killing the prince of Camelot failed, Emrys felt the the urge to get out of his training ground and do something more challenging.</p><p>He planned all the things he could, except, he didn't plan on falling in love with the prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did it on total impulse. My English is actually very very poor. At least it's poor enough that I can't write a fanfic in it...
> 
> So it may not be finished (Not that I don't want to! I just need to work very hard to improve my English writing and I highly doubt if I could be good enough to finish the story...)
> 
> I don't have any beta reader now so there might be a lot of mistakes. (My gramma is a disaster.) But I will do my best to not give up writing it. Hope you could like it.

**Chapter 01**

The Hall of Wisdom, that was the way they liked to call it. However it was never as grand and magnificence as Merlin pictured it would be. There were times, he heard, that those broken columns he saw had been huge and spectacular. The Masters of The Old Religion had gathered around the The Altar, casting spells to summon gods and goddesses. But those were the good times. Before the Purge, to be exact. Now they got a Hall full of dust which seemed like it could never be cleaned. They got a big old chair standing stupidly on the platform, with some old men who thought themselves as prophets and masters of magic claiming they had the right of sitting on it.

It never mattered.

At least, Merlin thought, it never mattered to him.

But then he remembered, he was called Emrys. Merlin might be his name, but the members of the Old Religion never called him that. It was a name given by his mother, and his mother was nothing. At least it was what they said. Mothers had wombs. They used them like a house to put unprepared children inside, until, of course, they got strong enough and ready to be a warrior or a sorcerer. In Merlin’s case, he was meant to be Emrys. What did Emrys mean? He didn’t know. He never did. It was a name from the Book of Prophecy. It was said that Emrys would be the most powerful sorcerer ever walked on earth, and he was the one to bring magic back to its former glories.

Merlin just scoffed at that. It was not that he didn’t believe in prophecies. He did. Really. He knew some seers himself and he was always surprised how much they could learn about the future just through their dreams. On the contrary, it was never easy for him, Although he always showed great talent in all forms of magic, he was never a good prophet. It was quite ironic actually, since he should be the great Emrys, yet he could not see his own future.

So he kept his name, his true name, to himself. Truth to be told, he never liked Emrys. It felt ridiculous to be told that you were supposed to be called this way. And, Merlin thought, there was always a chance that they got it wrong. He might not be Emrys in the first place. Considering the whole thing started from an old man (probably very drunk) held him in his arms and claimed that he was Emrys.

When this man, this particular mid-aged sorcerer having a worn cloak flying behind his back, rushed into the Hall of Wisdom with all the anger in the world on his face and told the Master that they had failed again, to kill prince Arthur, Merlin raised his chin to meet the challenge without a doubt.

“I can do this.” He said, kneeling on a cushion behind a small table next to the steps. The pale sunshine beamed through the window and reached to his fingers, making a Merlin-shape shadow on the ground. He looked right into the man’s eyes until the other guy frowned a little.

“Who the hell is this?” This man asked. Obviously, he hadn’t heard about the great Emrys. Merlin thought to himself.

“He is, actually, our only hope, known as Emrys, you may have heard?” The Master answered him in a low voice, “And you stand no place to talk to him like that.”

“Emrys?”The man looked shocked, observing Merlin with widened eyes. “But... He is just a boy.”

“He is a boy.” The Master heaved a breath, “A very powerful one.”

The man’s frown just grew deeper. He turned his eyes back to the Master. “I don’t care if he is powerful or not. You can’t let some boy walk into Camelot and blow the Prince’s head off with his magic. It is not the purpose.”

“What is the purpose then?”Again Merlin let himself ask, trying to look as innocent as he could. After all, he thought, he was just a boy.

“The purpose is to get the prince killed without being found out that he was killed by magic and replace him with his cousin whom is under our control now. Since his people loved him, if they knew their prince was killed by magic, would they ever accept magic back to their land? No. Would they hate magic even after Uther died? Yes. So now you understand, why I don’t give a damn if this boy was the powerful Emrys.” The thunderous anger in this man’s voice made Merlin lower his eyelids, only to hide a small smile reached into his eyes.

“Yet it seemed like it was your plan that never carried out.” Merlin’s voice was soft, softer than he intended it to. But it was alright under the circumstance. Because he could see the brown-haired man strode to him and reached out his hands to grab Merlin’s collar.

“I have made it crystal clear that I don’t give a shit if you were the bloody Emrys or not. So why don’t you keep your mouth shut and sit here looking pretty? Then I wouldn’t have to rip your heart out of your chest. It might get quite hurt, you know? Boy?” He still tried hard to make him sound even, but the way he grabbed Merlin out of his seat and the wrath he held in his eyes said otherwise. He probably meant what he said, Merlin thought, smiling ever so slightly.

“What are you laughing at, boy? What’s so funny? Think I would’t dare to touch you?” He tightened his hold around Merlin’s collar. And honestly, it was rather uncomfortable to let someone grab him like this.

Merlin didn’t say anything. His eyes turned to burning gold within a second and the man arched his back, loosing his hold, hands pushing to his chest and gasped. He staggered back a few steps, looking at Merlin with such shocked eyes and went down on his knees.

“What...” He couldn’t finish his words. Merlin doubted whether he could finish the next breath if he forced a little bit harder.

“Oh, I do. Mister whoever you are.”Merlin raised the tone a little and smiled friendly to the man kneeling before him. He couldn’t tell which one frightened the man more, his powerful magic or that he could look so harmless even when he was grasping the man’s heart without raising a finger. “You can rip my heart out whenever you like, as long as I don’t kill you on the first sight.”

The man is losing. His magic wanted to fight back so much yet he couldn’t even touch the surface of it. Merlin sneered when his magic tried to break the solid hold he got on him, and the man almost collapsed on his back.

“You’ve had your fun, Emrys.”The Master said from his big chair. “Have I introduced you two? Emrys, this is Alvarr. Alvarr, this is Emrys.”

And that was when Merlin let go of him and his magic. He didn’t believe this man could fight back after what he’d been through just then, but he still didn’t drop his guard.

“Alvarr then.” Merlin stepped to his side and squatted down beside him, “Nice to meet you, I guess.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is still not my mother tongue and I still don't know what I'm doing.
> 
> God! It's embarrassing. I've read so many English fanfic and when I write one myself, I just can't do it right...
> 
> No beta so all the mistakes are mine. It is short and I can't promise anything...

After the little incident in the Hall of Wisdom, Merlin decided to go to the library for some spell books. The library though, as they called it like that, was actually much too crude to be one. There was this room and a bookcase as tall as Merlin, if not for the books inside, anyone would feel sorry for it. 

Unlike the others who would prefer the stories in the history books, or those great prophecies, Merlin’s interests were only on the spells. “Spells were boring.” Everyone at his age would say that. Merlin just didn’t understand why. 

Spells were the only thing that could protect you when you were in danger, gave you the power to fight back or sometimes when you felt like hurting someone, it was those so-called boring spells that gave you the chance to do that. Merlin always spent so much time on spells. He practiced and practiced, then practiced some more. People never understood why he would waste so much time on the simple ones, and Merlin never told them. It would take about five or six times when a warlock at his age learned how to practice a new spell, three or four times when the he was cleverer than most people. But for Merlin, he never had to try more than once. 

He always succeed on the first time. And he would do it again out of habit, then do it again without saying the spell. The simple ones such as moving things out of reach or catch something in midair didn’t require spells even when he was a baby, it was the hard ones that took his time. He created a mini storm without enchanting when he was eight, and by eleven, he could make the lightning hit someone in his mind just by staring at him (or her, to be precise). So when he got sixteen, he could finish a whole ritual without whispering a word. Not that he would do it truthfully, it would take too much concentration to make that happen. But he could make that happen. He was a living encyclopaedia of spells and he could do most of them without enchanting.

So now when he grabbed these spell books and sat under the tree, it was out of boredom. Maybe he should try some history books like the others, or even read some prophecy about the great Emrys and do precisely what the prophecy had said. That would be fun. Merlin scoffed.

“They say you have a new task.” The voice belonged to someone Merlin truly hated. And he hated even more when he realized he didn’t notice she had come near him.

“Morgause.” Merlin replied without turning back. “Should I wonder where you might’ve heard it?” 

“No, you should not.” She stepped forward until she was beside him. “Just come to give you a friendly tip.”

Merlin bit back a laugh and nearly choked on his own saliva. “And what I may ask is that?”

“Don’t get yourself killed.” The sarcasm obvious though she was actually smiling.

“Quite useful.” Merlin nodded. The spell book open on his lap totally ignored, he leaned back  against the tree, shuting his eyes as if taking a nap. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Morgause was staring at him. She could set a fire on his shirt and he wouldn’t even be able to stop her in time. At least she thought so.

“I’m the better choice for the task, you know?” Morgause said, tilting her head. And she could look quite innocent when she did that. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Merlin answered lazily, feeling the breeze brushing his face.

“You are weak, Emrys. You can’t even kill an ant.” The blond lowered her voice. 

“And you are some excellent assassin?” Merlin lifted one of his brows.

“I can be if I want to.” 

And wasn’t that modest? He could really use some new friends, couldn’t he? If Morgause was ever counted as one.

“Goodbye, Morgause. You won’t have to bear with me for a long time.” Merlin put on a fake smile when he said that. Morgause did the same.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Emrys.” 

And finally she left Merlin alone.

Merlin opened his eyes and sighed. Maybe Morgause was right, maybe he wasn’t the right man for the task. She was right about Merlin couldn’t even kill an ant. A little exaggerate, but right all the same. He just didn’t feel like killing an ant. Why did he have to kill an ant? Ants deserved to live just like human-beings did. And he knew these were all excuses. “I can kill a man if I want to.” Merlin said to himself. “How hard can it be?” He pouted as he threw the book off his lap. “The prince of Camelot? He must be fat for he was raised in a castle, with all the food and servants doing all the work. He must be arrogant too, bullying his servants and maids all the time. A prat who knew nothing but asking for food and women like all the nobles. There could be no reason for Merlin to like him or pity him. It will be easy. He will kill him.” He nodded to himself as if he’d finally made his mind.

“Or maybe I should ask those seers?” And that was when Merlin realized he was talking to himself all along. And one of his inner selves was offering a bad suggestion. He would never go to those seers for help. Their ego was already big enough.

“Calm down, Merlin. You can do this. How can it possibly go wrong?”


End file.
